then I lean in and kiss her on the cheek, smelling the light citrus she has on. “Now, since you cooked, I will clean.” I smile at her. “Apparently, it’s a universal rule.”
“Um,” she says, pushing away from the table. “I think now is a good time to shower.” She turns and walks away, and I sit at the table a little longer, thinking about what I told her. About how I wanted to rub my nose on her cheek and then trail soft kisses down to her lips. To see if her eyes sparkle when my lips met hers.
It’s right then that I realize exactly how fucked I am . . . and that’s not in the good way.
Chapter Fourteen
Erin
“I think all this marketing for the movie is going great,” Sylvia says during our Skype call one week in. “I think we were even trending on Twitter, and Entertainment Hollywood is coming next week, I think Wednesday, to tour the set.”
“That sounds great,” I tell her as I sit in the trailer waiting for Carter to finish filming his scene. I’ve been awake since two thirty this morning, and it’s almost four p.m. “The movie’s Instagram page is up to twenty-five million.”
“That is incredible,” Sylvia says, and now she leans back in her chair. “And I have to say there have been no negative stories in the press, so you’re obviously doing your job.”
I nod my head. “It’s really hard to do all the sinful stuff when you’re on the set for fourteen hours a day. So my job has been a lot easier than I expected.”
“Well, from what I saw, you have tomorrow off, so sleep in and get some rest,” Sylvia says. “I’m here if you need me.”
“Thank you so much.” Disconnecting the call, I rub my hands over my face. I look around the trailer at the two vases of flowers on the table that I brought from home. When I walked into the house and saw all the flowers, I was in shock. Every single place I looked had flowers. And so many different colors. I knew then I had to up it and do something for him. Chicken parm was it, but holy shit, did I want to die.
“I’m done,” Carter says, walking into the trailer. “The car is already here, so if you can hurry, I would be so thankful.”
“I just have to grab my jacket,” I say, getting up and putting my computer in the Louis and then walking out. “Tired?” I ask him, and he just nods.
For the past week, it’s been routine for us to leave together in the morning. Breakfast together, lunch together, dinner together. Except yesterday when he wanted to eat in his bed, which I was totally okay with, but five minutes later, he came looking for me and said it was too quiet in his room. So he sat on my bed as I watched television. He ate his grilled chicken that we had delivered and then put it on the side table. He then closed his eyes, and I felt bad and didn’t want to tell him to get up, so I went under the covers and shut off the light. He stayed on his side of the bed, and when his alarm rang, he sprang out of bed. He didn’t mention falling asleep in my bed, and I didn’t mention it either. I guess if neither of us mentions it, it means it didn’t happen.
“I swear I’m so tired I’m going to sleep until noon tomorrow,” he says, putting his head back on the seat. I grab my phone and snap a picture of him with the caption.
“My plans for the next twenty-four hours.”
I post it and put my phone away. When we get to the house, I get out first, and he follows me. When we make our way up the stairs, he goes straight to his room and shuts the door. I do the same and take a shower. I put on my dark gray jeans and big gray long-sleeved cashmere sweater. I walk out, seeing that his door is still closed, so I walk to the kitchen. I’m a little shocked when I see him standing at the fridge wearing nothing but shorts. “I thought you were going to sleep?”
He looks over his shoulder at me. “I have to eat before I hibernate for the day,” he says, grabbing some eggs and bacon. “I’m craving breakfast.”
“Brupper,” I tell him, going to